Burn After Reading
by ebonyquill
Summary: A teenage Ursa chronicles her daily and sometimes incoherent ramblings that have recently found themselves focusing on one subject: Prince Ozai: "I could have Firebended the hell out of everyone in that room with the heat that rose up in my cheeks."
1. Should Have Stuttered

Burn After Reading  
_ebonyquill_

_Summary:_ A teenage Ursa chronicles her daily (and sometimes incoherent) ramblings about various things including: her imminent execution, a military-obsessed father, and the ever-mysterious Prince Ozai.  
_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Avatar: the Last Airbender, Ursa, or anything else affiliated with the show. I own my thoughts (and indirectly, Ursa's).  
_Author's Note:_ This is most likely OOC. To be fair, the characters in this fanfic are younger and subject to be more 'crazy' than their televised counterparts. This was meant to be a simple writing exercise for a bigger Ursa project I'm working on.. basically I'm just writing something silly and chipper for a change. I've tried many times in the past to do a journal-style fanfic and now I've finally found the time to - so here it is. :)

.

.  
.

**Date:** It's a Wednesday.. or a Thursday. It's three-slash-four days until the Sun Festival starts. Oh, I wish I could have lived to see it.  
**Time:** ..It's dark outside. Really dark. Like _something could come out from the shadows unsuspectingly and kill me_ dark.  
**Location:** Under my covers. This is subject to change - more specifically, to the gallows.  
**Mood:** In one very sick word? Humbled.

Still no sign of execution party.

What are they waiting for? What is HE waiting for?

Oh... right, dawn. That's when most people are hung/shot at by a firing brigade... You hear about it in plays sometimes.

"You will be executed at dawn!" says the thundering man who might actually be a woman with a beard on his-slash-her face.

...Or something like that.

I don't want the last thing mentioned in my personal journals to be about the so-bad-they're-good Ember Island Players.

Um.. what does one say when one is about to die? They say goodbye to their families and friends - right?

That sounds pleasant. Time to say sorry, express love and thanks... instead of crying and begging for life. Yes, Journal, I will take the more noble route towards this whole about-to-die fiasco thing.

Well, here it goes:

Sorry, Grandpa Roku. I didn't know you, but I'm sorry your Avatar holiness spirit will be subject to my execution. I don't know if I already offended you by calling you "grandpa," but my father never really enlightened us about how he addressed you. I imagine you enjoyed being called "Daddy-kins" or something to that effect. I should try calling my dad that.. he will probably send his fleet after me. By the way, while I am in the stocks - could you please reincarnate into someone who will save my sorry butt?

Sorry, Grandma Ta Min. I really liked those beads you made me that one time when I was two. I still have them. I don't remember receiving them, but you know, the gesture was nice. (..I could have choked on those as a child.) Okay, not a good time to start with conspiracy theories. I know you're happy in heaven with Grandfather Roku. Please put in a good word up there. Unless you are reincarnated too.. if you are, please try to save me! Unless you're not powerful at all. Then don't bother. No offense.

Goodbye Grandfather Shang. I'm glad you decided to accept my parents' marriage on your death bed and by default, my birth. It was nice of you to leave that house in Ember Island to us. I am also glad that you have stopped sending bounty hunters after my father. Those were a little tramautizing to deal with during pre-school.

Goodbye Grandmother Lian - I didn't know you either. Actually, I don't know much about you. Mom usually starts shouting recipe names when your name comes up. I think it is her proper lady way of cursing. Er, thank you for the hair I inherited from you! It's very flippy. And flexible.

I love you, Mom. Thanks for pulling out all those gross bug things out of my hair when I was four, curing my dragon pox when I was eight, healing my hives from that gross jasmine plant when I was ten, and the other various ailments you have fixed to ensure my survival. Sorry it was all in vain.

I love you, Dad. Thank you for all that advice on war tact. (However, I think you should have waited until I could walk until you started dishing out the how-to's about destroying five Earthbenders with a single arrow).

I _kind of_ liked you people labelled as my friends.

.

.  
.

**Date**: Still Wednesday or Thursday.  
**Time**: A few minutes later than when I last wrote. (Could still possibly be attacked and killed by shadow-monsters.)  
**Location**: Still hiding for dear life under my covers.  
**Mood**: Anxious!

Face to palm. Five.. six.. no, seven times. Well I suppose it doesn't matter how much pain I inflict on myself. I'm going to shot at, fired at, fireball'd at, etc. in a matter of a few minutes or hours anyway.

Why. Can't. I. Keep. My. Big. Mouth. Shut?!

Real last words: All you need is love.

.

.  
.

**Date**: Definitely Thursday morning.  
**Time**: Birds are chirping. The sun is out.  
**Location**: Still cowering under the covers. I think I've developed a hunchback.  
**Mood**: Even more confused.

Being philosophical (reference last entry) isn't the best course for me. I nearly spit out my tea laughing re-reading that statement and at the fact that I had actually wrote it. All you need is love? Ha-ha-ha.

Well, the battalion hasn't come yet. I haven't been murdered. That's always good news. It's always a winning morning when I haven't been split into five pieces yet.

However! He _could_ just be biding his time and choose to execute me when I am least expecting it.

Ah well. I might as well explain myself. I have time - or do I?

Whatever. This is silly. Everyone is going to know exactly _why_ my head will be cooking on a spit when the executioner announces my offenses before setting a nice hefty fire to the rest of my body. I should probably share my version of the story. My version is probably the most embarrassing, but nonetheless the most truthful one.

It really does hurt to write about stupid things you've done.

Onwards! Last night, Chan and I decided to take a walk around the palace courtyard.

I know what you're thinking, Journal. There are many things wrong with that sentence. I will address them all so that whoever is reading this does not think I am a complete lunatic. ...You don't, do you?

Sentence: Last night, Chan and I decided to take a walk around the palace courtyard.

_"Last night"_ - I hate staying out late. However, last night was special because my father's naval friend's son, Visu, returned from the war. (He was discharged due to the fact that he had gone temporarily insane and tried to kill everyone - including his superior officer - he met. He seemed perfectly fine when I saw him.) Anyway, his parents threw a large dinner in his honor to celebrate his return and invited everyone in all the land. No one said a word about Visu's sanity when they saw the abundancy of delicious foods and enticing entertainment his family offered. Food? Entertainment? Insanity? Sounded like a great party to me, so _this_ is why I was out late last night.

_"Chan and I"_ - Yes, this is the same girl who I have dedicated pages and pages to (including some diagrams of voodoo dolls). Yes, her nose is stuck so high up that I can see her brains. Yes, she convinced the twelve-year-old me that she could Earthbend with the aide of some sneakily hidden rocks - I still have the scar on my knee to prove it. And _yes_, my mother always stresses that I should be like her. (Stay down vomit.) _But_ my stomach was about to explode because of my careless over-stuffing of delicious foods. _Furthermore _the moon was full, the breeze was heavenly, and Chan had asked very politely if I had wanted to join her.

"_Decided to_" - This implies togetherness. That we, mortal enemies since a little after our births, had agreed upon something. This is just the first step. Next we will be declaring peace between the Earth Kingdom scum and the Fire Nation. Ursa made a funny.

"_Take a walk_" - See "Chan and I." My stomach was in no condition to walk. (This isn't a vomit story if this is what you sickos are looking forward to.) But the moon was _so pretty_.

"_Around the palace courtyard_" - In the middle of the night? That is madness. However, Chan argued that the panda lilies would beautiful in the moonlight. She also argued that everything else in the courtyard would be beautiful. (I only cared about the panda lilies. How can they be white AND black?!)

I am not over-analyzing any sentence ever again.

Well... Chan and I did go for a walk around the palace courtyard. Surprisingly there were already a few people there. The Fire Nation court was very lenient as to who they let into palace walls. Chan - curse her - was right about everything being more beautiful in the moonlight. I had already seen the palace courtyard numerous times in passing, but only during grand parties when they were filled with people, dancers, and other various performers.

We had started talking about casual, friendly things. The welfare of our parents, whether Visu was really crazy, how cute turtleducks were... and then somehow it all turned for the worst. Chan had brought up zoos and mentioned how nice it was that the royal family had saw it fit to invest some money for a zoo in the capital city.

Bringing up the royal family between two very, very eligible girls was troubled waters. The royal family consisted of Fire Lord Azulon (think that grumpy uncle you keep the Firedrinks away from plus colossal Firebending ability), Fire Lady Ilah (she has very nice hair), Crown Prince Iroh, and.. Prince Ozai. Shudder. Gulp. Bad onomatapoeia.

Everyone knew that the very single Prince Ozai had been in military training for the past three years. He occasionally visited the palace during his holiday intervals, but his visits were too brief for anyone besides close family to know about them. The only reason it was common knowledge was because the maids who fixed Prince Ozai's room would automatically blab if his sheets had been used.

Noble families who had daughters around Prince Ozai's age eagerly awaited his permanent return. His older brother had been married nearly a generation before. (His wife held me when I was a baby. I'm told I should be honored.) Prince Ozai was the only hope left for current affluent families to firmly secure their families' influence for at least another hundred years.

Chan's parents were adamant about this kind of stuff.

My parents are related to the Avatar. My father grew up on an island. He doesn't really care.

Chan's mother became friends with my mother at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls when they were youngsters. My mother _kind_ _of_ cares.

(Had to clear that up so you understand how stupid I was in the rest of the conversation.)

Our conversation somehow travelled to... living arrangements?

"I'd hate to leave the capital city. If I lived in the palace, I would never leave," Chan said with a damsel-like sigh. Fake - fake - fake.

I had shrugged. I don't think it came across underneath my five-hundred-kilogram dress. "I don't think I'd want to stay cooped up in the palace. I'd visit the beach as frequently as I could."

"Really?" Her stupid patronizing eyebrow rose. "Where exactly did you have in mind?"

"Ember Island, I suppose. My grandmother died there. If she found it peaceful enough to have her final resting place there, it can't that horrible." I now realize I made two social suicide invitations: 1) I admitted to liking Ember Island. (Noble families only had vacation houses down there. It was no _proper_ place to raise a family.), 2) I mentioned death. (We're supposed to be big on respecting the dead and for some reason this includes not mentioning anything about the actual death including the what, where - oops, why, how, etc.)

Chan laughed. It was similar to the annoying twitter of a monkey-hawk. "You are much too simple, Ursa. Are you saying that the palace is not good enough for you?"

"Not exactly," I bit the inside of my cheek. "I mean - it's beautiful. I would just choose to get away from it as often as possible."

"Why? Don't you find the people in the palace rivetting? Some of the greatest heroes of the Fire Nation have walked in its halls." She was getting nostalgic. I was ninety-eight percent positive that I spotted a tear brim over as she thought about the _greatest heroes of the Fire Nation_ she mentioned.

I stayed silent for once. I really should just have remained mute.

Chan continued with her sickening verbal admiration for the royal family. "And to think that Fire Lord Azulon is completing such a prodigious trek to annex the Earth Kingdom. Crown Prince Iroh has already begun to follow in his father's footsteps. I believe Prince Ozai will beautifully orchestrate the downfall of the Earth Kingdom alongside his brother. The Fire Nation will be victorious."

Yeah - she _actually_ used the phrase 'prodigious trek.' Chuckle-chuckle.

"I just think it's a tad moronic to try to better your ancestors in endeavours they've already achieved. Why not start anew with your own dreams? Maybe choose to be Li, the greatest Tea-maker in all of the Fire Nation," I had replied. To all future Li's of Fire Nation royalty: maybe tea-making isn't the best career choice...

On a heavier note, why did I say that? It just happened to be one of the ideas that had been crawling around in my mind, just asking to be shared with someone.

But not with Chan.

"This coming from the granddaughter of Avatar Roku?" Chan almost sneered, but of course, her pure face could not contort itself in such a suggestively demonic manner.

I shrugged again. "I'm not planning to stop wars, master all four elements, and marry my childhood sweetheart."

Chan's brown eyes lit up. I should have realized her mind was stirring with thoughts of the verbal trap she was going to encase me in. "So you are saying that following in your ancestors' footsteps would be moronic? What about Prince Ozai? I hear that he is going to the front line to fight for the war against the Earth Kingdom. A valiant effort, no? He is also following his ancestors' footsteps. He's not attempting to make a name for himself except for those available to him in the military - things his ancestors have already completed."

"I don't exactly know what you're getting at." I really, really didn't. She just unleashed a complete haiku-riddle-thing and I was in no condition to comprehend it - I was tired, my feet hurt, my stomach ached, and I didn't even get to see allegedly-mad Visu pull any crazy shenanigans.

"Would you call Prince Ozai a moron because he doesn't see the need to distinguish himself from the military fame of his family?" she had said this so quietly that only I could make out what she was saying if I strained my ears to hear her. Sneaky brat. "I mean, he just spent three years in the military. There are rumors that he doesn't take orders well. Apparently, he doesn't even like the military and is just doing it to please his father."

"Well, then he _is_ a moron." No, _I'm_ the moron. (I said it quite loudly, too. I illicted stares.)

Chan had risen an eyebrow and said snarkily, increasing her volume, "Are you calling the Prince Ozai a moron?"

"Did I stutter?" I had said. I would have been so proud of that come-back if it didn't 'come-back' to haunt me.

"Maybe you should have."

Shit. Descending. Into. Pants.

_Of course_ I turned around to meet the very prince in our conversation.

I'm pretty sure I could have Firebended the hell out of everyone in that room with the heat that rose up in my cheeks.

His tone was condescending and his face was annoyingly calm.

So - unbearably - annoying.

"Forgive me, your Highness," I had started - that's right, started - I should have stopped right after 'for'. "But I don't believe it's polite to eavesdrop."

_What, in all Agni, was I thinking?_ Apparently Visu's insanity was contagious! At least that's what everyone who had heard thought. (I saw it in their shocked looks as their eyes said, "It was nice knowing you.")

I just reprimanded one of the most powerful men in the world after I insulted him behind his back! I don't think I realized that I had committed suicide because I continued to stare at him casually. The pink in my cheeks had even started to fade.

Oh boy, but the rudeness I had used in my tone took the cake in all things awful. I usually only reserved it for Chan when she really, really annoyed me. (Her presence probably triggered a domino effect in my mind. Something along the lines of 'Hey mouth! Mind, here. Chan is right there being sneaky and stupid. You're allowed to be a complete bitch.') I had used that voice on the beloved _Prince_ of the Fire Nation, the son of the scariest man I had ever met.

Prince Ozai's face was a mixture of contempt, shock, and more contempt. (Maybe this was just my imagination.) Finally, his face became void of all emotion as he tensed the muscles around his mouth. "_You_ are the one who insulted _me_."

"If you hadn't been eavesdropping rat, maybe you would have understood the context of our conversation. For all you know, I could have been complimenting you!" Crazy spat out of my mouth. Maybe my tongue will be cut out...

"Maybe things have changed in the past three years, but generally, the word 'moron' did not coincide with positive connotations," Prince Ozai had replied. I could tell he was trying to strain his anger. I'm sure that if I had been a boy, my head would have been in the North Pole and the rest of my body would have been in its South counterpart.

I just kept going. "Maybe things have changed in the past millenia, but generally, eavesdropping like a common snake is considered rude!" I hadn't been talking about anything important with Chan. Our conversation was probably the general mold for every other exchange of words occurring that night. But I was immediately and fiercely defensive about it.

Prince Ozai's golden eyes narrowed so thinly that they looked like they were going to disappear. It was too late to apologize at this point. I was on a wicked streak.

This is when the realization began to hit me - I had called the Prince a _rat_ and a _snake_ or had at least implied it. The red tint returned to the apples of my cheeks. I dropped my hand to my side. Apparently, I was angrily pointing and shaking a finger at him. I continued in a voice just above a whisper. "I thought you were supposed to be in military training to continue on some prodigious trek."

I meant it as a question! A question! The inflection in my voice betrayed me once again. Even after I heard myself say it, I realized that I had vaguely offended him.

Or maybe my hint was what he did next.

This comment sent him completely over the edge. (Chan had forgotten to mention that Prince Ozai was suspended from training for a week because of insubordination due to a sensitive incident with his commanding officers.) All the muscles in his face hardened and his eyes blazed with fury. He opened his mouth to yell at me. "You know nothing of manners!" he bellowed.

I just stood there without any time to grasp a steady come-back or apology because he turned quickly and stalked off into the dark palace hallways.

At my left side, Chan was silently smiling.. I am going to kill her.

They can execute me for murder, too.

Somehow I think hitting the Prince where it hurts merits a worse punishment.

.

.  
.

**Date**: Late Thurdsay morning. Three days before the Sun festival.  
**Time**: Apparently not doom-making time.  
**Location**: My vanity chair. I am no longer in hiding. After all, I am Avatar Roku's granddaughter!  
**Mood**: Insane. (Or is this a characteristic?)

I just re-read my last few entries. Maybe I'm being a little dramatic. Surely Prince Ozai isn't too butt-hurt. I mean, he was in military camp for Agni's sake. A few misplaced words from a small, defenseless girl can't offend him too badly. It's not like I called him a little Earthbender girl or something.

I just called him animals.

Not very nice animals, but you know.

But I only insulted him for something that he couldn't help but do (eavesdrop). I _was_ talking quite loudly.

Maybe I'm so sheltered that that little exchange was blown completely out of proportion by myself. It is probably a daily conversation (and/or battle) between the Prince and his favorite buddies... I could be that favorite buddy.

He probably doesn't even know who I am.

You can't hold a grudge-slash-deathwish on a person you don't even know.

It's not like he can just go up the Emperor's private guards, give them my description, and hope they kill the right girl with long black hair, hazel eyes, and pale skin.

Maybe they'll kill Chan by accident.

...

...

Note to self: Silk does not make good noose. Ask Mai-Lin to fetch the rope-ier afternoon dress.

.

.  
.

**Date**: Thursday evening.  
**Time**: The moon is out. Werewolves, ooh.  
**Location**: My room.  
**Mood**: Calm. Are you surprised? I am.

I have survived another day.

Ursa: 1, World: 0.

Hm. That doesn't seem right. I should probably include all the times that the world has beaten me mercilessly.

Ursa: 1, World: 53.

This is a rough estimate.

List: Events in Which the World Defeated Ursa.

Sort: _Most recent._

53. Caused her to insult the beloved Prince of her country. More than once.

I like third person.

52. Impaired her judgement when choosing walking partner.

51. Tricked her stomach into consuming more than it could carry. Resulted in delirious food coma-like symptoms: walking with sworn enemies, insulting sovereigns, etc.

50. Attempted to destroy itself (the world), by being convinced that visiting a crazy man's welcome-home banquet was a good idea.

Okay, that wasn't a bad idea. I just blame it because it was an integral part of that night in general.

49. I don't really remember what I was going to put down for this. I originally just made this list to further re-write the stupid things that happened to me last night. It doesn't really help me. I just thought writing them down would pass the time.

Yeah. Journal, I am still expecting someone to annihilate me.

Not a joking matter.

Well, it kind of is unfortunately funny.

(If this really is why I die.)

I mean - if this is the reason for my execution, I wish I had some thrown in some more insults in there.

Like the crazy state of his hair, the completely insane look in his eyes, the way his face turned red, etc.

You know - personal shots at his appearance. That would have made me laugh regardless of the outcome.

...I should have called him a gorilla-bear. When he was really angry, his neck kind of scrunched up like a gorilla-bear's.

It was kind of cute.

...

He has pretty eyes.

The way his hair was messy suited him.

...

Not to mention a smoking hot, military-built body.

Not that I noticed while I was insulting him.

Noticed a lot.

...

54. In some sick joke, made the pheromones in the air make her attracted to said Prince.

FOREHEAD. TO. PALM.

.

.  
.

* * *

_Author's Note: _I haven't released anything new in a few years and this is my first A:TLA fanfic, so please be kind enough to leave a review. Tell me what you liked, hated, never want to see again, etc. I'm planning about three to four more chapters for this side-of-a-side project so I'd love the criticism now. :) Have a swell day.


	2. Can't Help Myself

**Date**: See last entry.  
**Time**: Just a few minutes later than the last one.  
**Location**: Still the same.  
**Mood**: Riiiiiight.

No. I am not physically attracted to the Prince whatsoever. I am definitely not attracted to him mentally. He jumps to conclusion and gets angry quickly. (The thesaraus casually mentioned that angry could also mean _passionate_...)

Not. Attracted.

Right. So why do I keep thinking of his lean, muscular arms wrapping themselves around me?

_BAD_. That was a bad thought.

I mean, I always think of men in this deragatory way. I even considered how good-looking Crazy Visu was. (He wasn't, but he had very soft-looking lips.)

This is completely casual observation.

Of course Prince Ozai is attractive. The royal family can marry whoever they want - of course, they'll pick the prettiest people in the nation. And he _had_ _to_ join the military. Azulon is crazier in his quest to protect his family's military legacy than my father is! (Okay, so maybe my father isn't that concerned with me joining the army.. but still, crazy!) It was instilled into him since his birth. He _had_ to pack on the lean muscle.

Every other girl in the nation has noticed, I'm sure. This just makes me normal.

I should tell my mother that I find the prince 'dreamy.' (One of Chan's favorite words and facial expressions.)

She will be happy to know that I am somewhat not-strange.

...Then I'll have to tell her how I insulted him.

She'll probably pretend-drown me in a sink until I can't breathe and then pull my head out. Then repeat the process five times. (I am never insulting her gardening in front of her noble friends again.)

Well, I did insult royalty.

Maybe she won't pretend-drown.

It would save Prince Ozai some trouble.

Very good-looking Ozai.

BLAST AGNI.

.

.

.

.

**Date**: Friday night.  
**Time**: It's really, really late.  
**Location**: My room.  
**Mood**: Very lazy.

Today I went to the bath-houses with my mom. Chan wasn't there. I looked around every corner for an assassin. There was none.

A stellar conversation unfolded:

"Ursa... dear... why do you look like you've just seen a ghost?"

"Urm - uh - noreasonjustlooking."

Good ol' mother didn't even reprimand me for the incoherent mumbling in my speech. "You hardly left your room yesterday. Did something happen at Visu's party?"

"No. The party was nice," I replied meekly. I wasn't in the mood for conversation.

"You left early with Chan. Did you girls catch up?"

I nodded in reply.

We caught up, alright... she was still a bitch. I wasn't missing much.

"I'm so glad you two are taking time out of your schedules to be with each other. This age is the most competitive and will break many of the bonds you have with other girls. With so many young men fighting in the war, I'm afraid the competition for a husband will be even more fierce."

... Or something like that.

"That sounds like fun." I wasn't listening. Frankly, I'm surprised I could even string together an idea of what she said.

"Have you met Prince Ozai yet? He's very handsome. If only I was a few years younger.." It was such an innocent question. I nearly jumped out of mudbath at the mention of his name. "Ursa!"

Unfortunately I just splashed around uncomfortably and had gotten mud onto my mother's vision. "Sorry."

But she didn't ask me again.

Even when I'm trying to forget that a hit could have possibly been made on my life and that the person who might have ordered it was one of the most gorgeous, powerful men in the Fire Nation, my mother sneaks up on my morals like that. In a really, really creepy way.

_If you were younger, what exactly would you have done, Mother? _Must push from mind before projectile vomitting commences.

Now I'm home. I am tired. I am retiring.

From life.

That last statement was a bit dramatic.

Good night!

.

.

.

.

**Date**: STILL. FRIDAY.  
**Time**: Late night.  
**Location**: The center of hell (a temperature metaphor, not my current situation metaphor). Okay, maybe both.  
**Mood**: Can't sleep mood - also known as restlessness and hot-and-bothered'ness.

I can't sleep.

I am sweating like a dirty mongrel who has just walked across the Great Divide in with five Firebenders burning a constant fire around a close perimeter.

They don't call it the Sun Festival because we're expecting a light snowfall in the morning.

It is hotter than... than... Prince Ozai - as in his Firebending. I've heard he's quite talented... with that.

Nonetheless I can't sleep at all. All my sheets are on the ground because they either A) make the unbearably scorching weather even more extremely hot or B) stick to my body awkwardly _because_ of the extreme heat.

With all the strewn-out feathers from my pillows (I scream-slash-bite in them often when I get a little angry) and the ink blotches on my sheets (apparently, I write a lot?) my maids already think I'm a demonic being. Maybe they'll convince themselves that the fact that I only slept with two pillows tonight signifies the fact that I'm starting a dark, ungodly ritual.

...to make Chan bleed locusts.

Not really. That was extreme.

But I still can't sleep! Not only does the heat completely hinder my sleeping habits, but even the methods I use to combat it haunt me.

For example, I'll start hugging the cooler side of one of my pillows and out of absolutely nowhere, my mind pretends that the pillow is Prince Ozai!

The fact that I'm getting so creepy is creeping _me_ out.

I'm sure I'm not that bad... Chan probably has a shrine to his name and prays to it every day.

And I'm almost positive that she's hugged a pillow pretending that it was Prince Ozai's very nice torso.

I mean, it would never work anyway.

Between him and me.

He's rude, impulsive, and does not take orders well - I think. I didn't really get the best impression of him the other day.

Maybe he would have been nice if I hadn't said something about how he was a moron... maybe he was already headed toward our direction and just happened to come at the time where I chose to insult him.

Maybe he was coming over to talk to me.

...All these thoughts aren't helping the fact that I'm already sweating like a hog.

_I hate being hot_ and _bothered._

_._

_._

_._

_._

**Date**: Saturday. The day before the Sun festival.  
**Time**: Early morning. I should really start marking these more precisely. I'm guessing there is a reason that there is a nice, handy already-inked-in template for me to follow. The single rule to journal-writing is jotting down the date and time and I miserably fail.

...It's around eight in the morning.  
**Location**: My room. I did briefly get up to look outside my window to look at the great shrine sand-timer clocks to check the time.  
**Mood**: Tired.

I didn't get much sleep last night. Two hours to be exact.

I tried reading some of my old lesson books, but really didn't care how Fire Lord Sozin led the breach on a village who wouldn't receive our gracious influence, _blah blah blah_. _What about his grandson?_

I was going to draw a picture, but after deciding that the three stick figures I had drawn would be me, Prince Ozai, and our pet-human, I thought it would be healthiest not to continue.

I also attempted to play Pai Sho with myself. I am horrible Pai Sho player. I lost to myself after the second move.

After that, I just sat in my bed and daydreamed (night-dreamed?). That wasn't a good idea. There was only one face that kept popping up in my memory much more frequently than the others...

Physical attractions never make good relationships - unless he's intelligent and will personally tell me what Fire Lord Sozin did during that breach on that village that one time in the far past.

That goes for every man I meet.

Oh please, please, please let _him_ be remarkably stupid.

.

.

.

.

**Date**: Saturday!  
**Time**: NIGHT!  
**Location**: My room!  
**Mood**: !?

Did I just - did that just - I think that...

I'll scribble in a better date, time, locale later! I have to write everything down before I forget it. It was just - too strange for words.

Around lunch time, my parents thought it would be a good idea to visit the palace courtyard. I vehemently tried to persuade them out of it - mentioning that it was chock-full of jasmines, the bane of my hive-filled existence.

"You've never complained about going there before," my level-headed father had said. OF COURSE I HADN'T. I hadn't had a near-death wish experience there before.

"I was under the impression that you favored the courtyard out of all the locations in the capital city." My mother had raised an eyebrow. She knew something was peculiar.

I couldn't lie to my parents. So I avoided telling them the truth. I adopted a very sad-looking face. "It just makes me miss beloved Ember Island so much - with its trees, flowers, and wild-life. I wish we could go there every day. Oh, can't we, Mother?"

The whimsical voice I used was a tad much.

That is why precisely twelve minutes after lunch finished we were entering the courtyard. It looked exactly as it had a few nights before. The turtleducks were playing with each other, the jasmine trees dipped low into the pond in the center of quad, and people circled the premises with educational books, teacups, or with loved ones.

It was too serene for me. Someone had cursed me (Grandma Ta Min?) and chaos was sure to ensue.

Alright, that was an exaggerration. It's not like we were going to be attacked by the ghosts of the Airbenders or something --.

...It's really dark outside.

There are no such things as ghosts. There are no such things as ghosts. There are no such things as ghost.

Sorry - no more digression. Where was I? Oh yeah.

My mother took my father's arm and began to walk around the grand patio. I followed a few steps behind. I'm sure a few conspiracy theories concerning people disguised as jasmine trees crossed my mind as my father picked one and set it in my mother's hair.

How disgustingly romantic.

Anyway, we talked about how we were glad everyone in the family was healthy, how we should visit Ember Island ("How about right now?"), and other things concerning the family. That is, until a finger tapped my shoulder.

You know who it was. Grandma Ta Min's curse. Of course it was him.

My shoulder. He tapped. Touched... sigh.

"Hello." His low, husky tenor startled me more than his body contact. I couldn't sense any hint of ferocity in it, but still... My parents were about a meter ahead of me. I could run quickly to them if I wanted to.

But I didn't.

His voice just sounded so inviting.

I sent a sideways glance his way and inclined my head politely surprised that it didn't loll off. "Hello."

He walked silently beside me for a few moments.

If I had reached out with my left hand, I could have touched him.

...

Hold on -- I have to get a glass of cold water.

Anyway, he finally broke the silence. He looked at me with a guarded, but pleasant, if vacant, expression on his face. "Do you frequent the palace courtyards?"

"Only recently," I said truthfully with a hint of regret in my voice. I looked ahead towards my parents. "I don't like to."

"Because of your apparent spite for nobility?" The prince rose an eyebrow.

"No!" I stopped walking and looked at him. He eyes slightly widened at my unexpected outburst. I calmed myself and reinforced what I had said, "Not at all."

His forehead creased in thought. "Because of your -- obsessive admiration for nobility?"

I snorted. (I am going to pretend that I laughed maniacally. It hurts my ego less.) "No."

This answer surprised him. But did he really expect me to say yes?

"Then why don't you like visiting the courtyards?" He asked simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

...You already know that I'm thinking of his _very nice_ chest. And my pillows.

I never got the chance to answer. And frankly, I didn't know what I was going to say.

Oh, well, your majesty. I'm afraid that you're going to have someone kill me because I insulted you (quite brashly and relentlessly). Silly, right?... oh, you _did_ have someone sent to kill me? Well I better dash off then! Hugs and kisses, oh Sensitive One! By the way, I think you're one of the most attractive men in the world.

I love my dad.

"Prince Ozai!" My father caught sight of the royal addition to his entourage.

He turned away from me to greet my father.

That was good. I wouldn't have to look at him anymore.

The two men exchanged bows and casual handshakes. They knew each other through Azulon, Ozai's father. My father was a retired, decorated general of the Fire Nation army and the son of the Avatar Roku. Azulon made sure to become close acquaintances with him. (It always surprises me when old war buddies greet my father. They treat him like he conquered the village of Qingzhou himself or created the Agni Kai. He is just my goofy, military-minded dad who puts pretty flowers in my mom's hair and promises me Ember Island vacations during the summer - not the war hero his old colleagues make him out to be.)

My dad looked from me to the prince and then at me again. "Do you two know each other?"

"Yes, we previously met a few nights ago." Ozai answered. He smiled at me.

He. _Smiled_. At. Me.

I immediately began wondering if the ancient, royal Firebending magic allowed him to feel my blood heat up as my heart beated a little faster.

I smiled back. I replied kindly, "I'm afraid we did not formally meet, your highness."

I surprised myself by doing anything besides melting into a very embarrassed puddle.

"Well, we must fix that," he said softly. He turned to my father and inclined his head suggestively.

Almost immediately, my father bowed and waved his hand in my direction. "Prince Ozai, may I present my daughter: Ursa."

I swept into a low curtsy before standing to my full height. He was _still_ smiling at me.

It was a very nice, sincere smile... very handsome.

...Like the rest of his face.

And basically the rest of him, but this has already been noted.

"Pleasure to meet you, Ursa." A concealed swoon occurred after this statement. His voice practically dripped with sensuality when he said my name. "And I am sure this is the first of many pleasurable meetings we will share."

The innuendo burned my mind. I smiled at him politely. "Hopefully not too pleasant."

Did I just imply what I think I implied? Surely, he percieved it in the right way--

His left eyebrow arched and the muscles around his mouth tensed. Was he holding back a grin?

"Of course not, Lady Ursa. We wouldn't want you to lose that biting wit of yours," he replied softly. _That_ could almost be percieved as a compliment - or a very careful bending of words into a perfectly concealed insult.

I'm pretty sure I smiled. Or just stared at him dumbfoundedly.

He turned to my mother and greeted her. They exchanged pleasantries, but the whole time I could see that my mother was glancing back at me.

I cast her a look back that clearly said, "_I have no idea_."

After he finished joking with my mother over something unimportant like the amount of fabric available in the dress shop, he entered into a casual chat with my father about war and politics as I continued to gawk at him. He had very high, aristocratic cheekbones, a chiseled jaw, and gold, piercing eyes.

"Ursa," my mother whispered harshly at my side. I turned to her sheepishly and kept my eyes on the turtleducks in the lake.

Before I knew it, my father finished his conversation and looked at one of the hourglasses on top of pedestals that were located at each corner of the courtyard. He frowned and turned to the prince. "I apologize, but we must retire from the courtyard," he gestured to me and my mother, "We have to prepare our home for the Sun Festival tomorrow."

I almost face-palmed in public. I hadn't even started thinking about, let alone actually rearranging my room in compatability with the Chi required for the Sun Festival. I had completely forgotten and lost track of time. Judging by the panicked look on my mother's face, she realized that we still had much to do to formally begin celebration.

"Of course, I am sorry to have kept you so long." He flashed that pretty, winner's smile again.

He was so cute when he was apologizing.

"Of course not, your highness. A moment of your time is greatly appreciated and educational," my father replied, bowing respectfully.

My mother followed suit and dipped lowly before following my father who had already made his way out the archway to the main gate which led to the main street of the capital city. I also bowed and turned to leave.

And then had a heart-attack.

Out of nowhere, he grabbed my arm and whispered swiftly - mere _centimeters_ away from my ear: "I hope you don't think that I've forgotten."

His eyes were intensely searching my face and his alabaster jaw clenched itself together.

I could feel the heat from his face so close to mine, from his arm pressuring mine, from _his entire body _smothering the air I was trying to breathe. I usually find it ridiculous when girls use the word 'smoldering' to describe men, but oh Agni. He was absolutely smoldering.

I'm pretty sure I openly gawked at him for a few seconds before regaining my composure.

(I can't remember drool. Oh Agni. Please tell me there wasn't drool.)

"I don't know what you're talking about." I smiled civilly and calmly. I released my arm from his strong hold, curtsied again (avoiding his face), and practically ran to my parents.

I'm pretty sure that if I had waited for a reply that I could have remained in his grip for a good full minute more.

_Curses_.

When will I start thinking with my head?

But, earlier - when he was all snarky (okay, maybe he was charming):

"_Pleasurable meetings..._"

...Was that flirting?

Did he flirt with me?

He held onto my arm!

...And kind of threatened me.

But was he flirting with me?

_In front of my parents_?!

No, that wasn't flirting.

That was just him lie-bending.

Being-charming-bending.

Flirtbending?!

No...

_"I hope you don't think that I've forgotten."_

Well, buddy - I hope you don't that I've forgotten!

I am planning my eloquent, coherent come-backs right now!

And maybe some action.

...Not that kind of action.

However, I am planning things! Before you attempt to embarrass me - I shall embarrass you!

Yes, planning.

Er, but let's see what you're going to do first.

Good plan, Ursa. Very good plan.

Don't start planning until you know your enemy's plan. Father would be proud of my advancing military prowess... except for the fact that said-enemy is the son of the ruler of our country.

Hold on, is he my enemy?

Not like Chan is.

Do I want him to be my enemy?

Not really, but he is _smoldering_ when he's intensely pseudo-threatening me.

So what are we?

Hehe - _we_.

When am I going to see him again anyway? Oh. That is a stupid question. Obviously he's going to be at the Sun Festival ball that's held every year at the royal palace. No calculation needed there.

I hope he asks me to dance with him.

Just so I can actually touch his arms this time. I think they'd fit around my waist quite nicely. I wouldn't be able to go anywhere. He could crush me and Firebend my face off.

But oh boy, he will be beautiful.

Oh Agni, _what if he actually does ask me to dance_?

I can't think about this anymore. I have to fix my room so the spirits (ghost Airbenders, shudder) don't abhor to see its reckless furniture placement. We can't have that.

Time to make sure that my vanity chair doesn't clash with the astronomical positioning of the Sun Festival!

... But he did imply that he wanted to meet again, right?

To inflict revenge for some petty words, supposedly.

I - okay.

.

.

.

.

**Date**: Sunday?  
**Time**: Very, very late at night.  
**Location**: The balcony... there's a breeze pretending to be refreshing, but it feels like a warm breath slapping your face.  
**Mood**: There's too many.

_I can't wait for tomorrow._

* * *

_Author's Note: _This is the third time I uploaded this because I am lame when it comes to format, so sorry if that was any inconvenience!

Aunt Wu tells me that in the next chapter we can expect the beginning of the Sun Festival and a healthy batch of Ursa-yearning-for-Ozai action. The cloud formations say 'Of course there will be more Ozai/Ursa interaction!' It would be wonderful if you could drop a line or two in those handy review boxes. :)


End file.
